subtle confessions
by pumpkinpickles
Summary: Five times Takumi tries to hint at Souma that he really, really likes him in a more-than-friends way. (and the one time Souma does instead) [soutaku]


**one.**

This is cliche. So extremely cliche and cheesy and cringe worthy.

Takumi rereads the note, edges of the paper crinkling as he decides whether or not to fold it up and slide it over to Souma along with the last few shreds of his dignity, oh god, is he really going _to do it -_

"What's that?"

A faux whisper said directly into his ear, and Takumi nearly jumps out of his skin. Souma grins, leaning back, pointing at the note Takumi now has pressed against his chest.

The paper crumples. Takumi's heart thumps a little louder, a little faster.

Mechanically, Takumi's arm shoots out, slapping the note on the table, rigidly sliding it over Souma's notebook before whipping his arm back with lightning speed.

Takumi keeps his eyes fastened on the whiteboard throughout the entire time. A note asking "Do you want to go out" with yes and no options is honestly. An extremely childish method. That Takumi just used. _Cazzo. Idiota. Stupido._

He's pretty sure someone could cook an egg on his burning face right now.

There's a tap on his shoulder, and this time, he really does jump.

Souma is still grinning, though a tad sheepishly now. "Right. You promised to go to the market with me to teach me how to spot good tomatoes. I forgot. Next Saturday sound good?"

 _'I would rather go to the movies. Or the amusement park. Or even a normal park! Holding hands! Because I really like you and i mean going out as in go out on a date with me.'_

But the thought is swallowed back, and all Takumi does is nod.

 **two.**

"Oh. It's raining." Souma scratches the back of his head. "Damn, I knew I should have grabbed my umbrella before I left the dorm."

Takumi grips the handle of his very small, very compact portable umbrella. "Want to share one?" He still asks.

"You're a lifesaver." Takumi distracts himself from Souma's rosy smile with the sight of the umbrella snapping open, blooming like a flower.

"Lucky we're both about the same height." Souma says, ducking under the umbrella.

Takumi hums, pretends not to notice every time his arm brushes Souma's.

"You know, the girls in the class were talking about love umbrellas during lunch." Takumi nonchalantly brings up, sneaking a peek at Souma.

"Huh. Myths sure are something, aren't they. Hey, speaking about myths, do you know they say that there's a haunted statue behind the second grand hall? Want to check it out?"

Before Takumi can say anything, Souma is already running off in the direction of said haunted statue.

"Hey- Yukihira- Wait up! I'm the one holding the umbrella, you know! You're going to catch a cold!" Takumi dashes after Souma, puddles splashing beneath him. Despite the frustration, he can feel a smile of his own creeping up his face when he spots Souma's excited waving for him to hurry up.

"Anyway, ghosts aren't real!"

 **three.**

 _saw some things today that reminded me of you :)_ ** _sent 4.27pm_**

 _[attached photos: a puppy, a double ice cream cone, a bouquet of roses]_

 _hey! same!_ ** _sent 4.30pm_**

 _[attached photos: omurice with a ketchup smiley face, a slurpee, a blurry photo of a garden]_

 **four.**

Yet another person bumps into Takumi, and he glares at the stranger who bustles past without an apology. Though it was half his fault for staring at Souma's bare biceps instead of paying attention to the crowd.

Suddenly he's thankful it's Summer and he can blame all his red faced problems on the heat.

"It's really crowded, isn't it?" Souma shields his eyes from the sun, looking left and right into the sea of people.

"Summer's started and it's a Sunday, Yukihira." Takumi kindly reminds him. Yet another person bumps into Takumi.

This time, Takumi is too busy being overcome with the worries of how to initiate handholding.

"Hey, want to hold hands?" Fuck. He hadn't meant to say that _out loud._ "J-Just in case. So we don't lose each other in the crowd." With terrible saves like this, Takumi thinks it's pretty lucky he took up cooking instead of baseball.

"So you're bad with crowds, Takumi?" Souma gazes at him sympathetically. "Don't worry, we all have our childhood traumas."

Takumi finds his face flushing red for a very different reason now.

"Keep this up Yukihira, and you can scour for a standing fan yourself."

 **five.**

Coins jingle as Takumi carefully tips his change back into his wallet.

"Hey, can i have a sip of your green tea?" Souma asks, shaking the cold can as he removes it from the vending machine.

"Yeah, sure." Takumi takes his drink, cracking the can open with the tab. He takes a quick swig, then hands it to Souma.

Just as Souma's hand wraps around the can (and Takumi's fingers), he frowns. "Wait, aren't you saliva conscious?"

Takumi looks at Souma straight in the eye and says, "Yeah."

And Takumi will swear that Souma's cheeks turned pink when he let go of the can, smirked, and continued, "I want my drink back though."

 **(plus one).**

The lecture hall is beginning to soak in the colours of the setting sun, yet the lone figure shows no interest in leaving.

Takumi flips another page of the book, chewing on the end of his pen. He feels his reading glasses slip, as does his concentration. Maybe he _should_ go home to finish up this worksheet. But the reference textbook is heavy, and he _really_ doesn't want to lug it back.

The hall's door creaks open. Lifting his head, Takumi finds his eyes meeting Souma's.

"Yukihira. It's late. What are you doing here?" He's rather sure the boy had left campus ages ago.

"Left my lunchbox behind." Souma says, striding up the steps two at a time. Takumi takes his time admiring how easily Souma's hair blends into the sunset backdrop, courtesy of the wall length windows.

"How careless." Takumi puts his chin on his hand, sufficiently distracted from his work.

"What about you?" Souma plops down next to Takumi, "ooh"-ing in understanding upon seeing the worksheet. "Heavy textbook, huh."

"Mmm." Takumi laces his fingers and stretches his arms above his head. "I think i'll head home already though. Isami's probably waiting for me in one of the practice kitchens."

"You look good in glasses."

The sudden compliment catches Takumi off guard. His arms drop, and he stares at Souma, blinking owlishly. "Pardon?"

Souma doesn't look at him, bustling right along, though he looks momentarily flustered. "H-Hey, i've got an idea, want to count shoulders?"

Takumi rolls his eyes, too tired to press further about Souma's weird behaviour. He'll just freak out about the comment later.

"Sure," Takumi says amusedly, curious as to what Souma could have possibly cooked up this time.

Clearing his throat somewhat nervously, Souma begins.

"One, two," Souma taps his left shoulder, then his right. "Three," His hand taps Takumi's left shoulder, ever so lightly. "Four." Souma's arm stretches around Takumi, hand coming to a rest on Takumi's right shoulder.

And he stops moving.

Completely.

Not even a peep escapes him.

"Okay, so wha - Oh. _Oh_." Realisation is quick to hit. But acceptance is slow.

Both parties remain frozen for what feels like hours, though the clock hanging above the whiteboard calmly moves but five minutes in the dead silence.

The reality of the situation eventually seeps in, and Takumi settles into the one armed hug.

"So. How long are we going to stay like this?" Takumi asks, leaning his head on Souma's shoulder. Even from there, he thinks he can hear Souma's heart thumping loud and out of pace. It makes him smile a little.

"Hopefully not much longer. I think my arm is cramping." Souma says.

"That's weak." Takumi tsks. Then, he raises his head, deliberates with himself for a moment, decides _whatever_ , and presses his lips to Souma's cheek.

"I like you." Takumi blurts out, the need to properly confess suddenly overwhelming him. "A lot. I like you a lot. I love you."

And Souma's red, slack jawed smile right then is worth all the months of frustration.


End file.
